Girl in the Games
by flyingconverselol
Summary: In a new modern world where people live-or die- for the gladiators' games, Maximum Ride's father, the world championship gladiator, died in the ring on live television the week before, and now Max's life is spinning out of control. As a rule of the National Gladiators' Association, Max must marry the guy who killed her father.. or fight in the arena as the first female gladiator.
1. Chapter 1

**OK! So, hi. This is a new fanfic. Maximum Ride and Fang. **

**Summary: In a new modern world where people live-or die- for the gladiators' games, Maximum Ride's father, the world championship gladiator, died in the ring on live television the week before, and now Max's life is spinning out of control. As a rule of the National Gladiators' Association, Max must marry the guy who killed her father...or fight in the ring herself as the first female gladiator to ever enter the ring. Marry him or defeat him? Watch out. Max is playing with fire.**

1

"Mom. Mom,"I groan. She's putting out dresses that she expects me to wear to Dad's next match in the ring. As his family, we go to every fight he's in, supporting him.

"Mm,"she asks absentmindedly. I roll my eyes, huffing. "No. I already told you. No,"I say. Mom slump over, sighing. Worry flashes through your eyes. "Max, please. Do this one time...before...before he loses,"she murmurs quietly, tears in her eyes.

"What?"I ask loudly. My hands grip the side of my mattress. Did I hear her right? Mom looks away, meeting my fiery gaze. "Max. Just...try to dress your best,"she says before flowing out of the room.

I sink onto my bed, sighing. Tomorrow is Dad's gladiator match with a rising gladiator. My dad's convinced that he'll win this thing by a landslide, but I'm concerned. When Dad acts this cocky around us, it's usually because he's trying to convince himself that he'll win. And judging from Mom's reaction, his next opponent must be very good.

I sigh, snatching the dress up and stomping into my dressing room. Tugging it on, I pray to any god or goddess hoping that this would be worth it.

"Max! Would you like any garlic bread?"Dad call from downstairs. I sweep down the ornate marble staircase, thinking about shoving the stuff into my face. "Mm! Coming! Ella, Ari, it's mine!"I yell. Dad chuckles, handing me a plate. I devour it, ignoring my brother and sister who ate the bread daintily like a normal elite person. One of our servants, Calliope, hands me more. Soon, I finish all of the garlic bread.

Calliope laughs, rubbing my forearm affectionately. "Don't tell him I said this, but I'm actually worried for your dad. His opponent is really good,"she says, smiling at me. I nod.

Our family walks to the hover limo and enter. From there, we go through the back entrance. Ella, Ari, Mom, and I walk to the lifted area for important people-that is, Dad's family. Some other famous and recognizeable people sit there, too.

Dad heads to the locker room for the gladiators, preparing. Once the announcer announces the fight, a guy enters first.

I'm not proud to say that I thought he was adorable. His eyes are onyx, his dark hair covering some of his face. He's tall and thin, but obviously very muscular. Dad comes out, and everyone cheers for the blood bath to begin.

Ella and Ari, even at their young age, enjoy the fighting since they've never seen someone they knew personally get killed. For me, I know how serious this can get. I've met some of the gladiators before they were killed. Ella and Ari cheer, grinning.

Mom whimpers, clutching her dress. Calliope stands behind my chair, smiling gently. The gong sounds, vibrating throughout the air. It sounds so stern, like we're at a funeral and a death march. I feel myself become immersed in the battle. It's not just a battle physically, it's a mental battle. Dad's scars tell his opponents that he's been struck, but he still stands tall and proud. He can use psychological warfare, a concept I'm very familiar with and even used at times.

There's a reason why people fear me. It's not just the fact that my dad's a world champion gladiator, I myself am a person that's considered dangerous and brilliantly tactical. Genes, I guess, but I've always had the knack of finding one's weakness and strength. And I am amazing at playing that information to my use.

Just like Dad.

The fight starts after they circle each other, testing the other's weaknesses. Dad's opponent is a very skilled warrior. I can tell. Both of them go into a flurry of movements. I'm stuck watching them, thinking in frustration as if I could send Dad mental messages telling him to watch his right side or keep his eye on the whip in the other guy's left hand instead of just focusing on the guy's spear.

I practically predict the guy's next move, which causes Dad to go falling into the dirt. I glare in frustration, throwing my hands up.

"Dad, watch it!"I cry, which is lost in the crowd's uproar.

But Dad's not as young as he used to be. Dad can't move as nimbly as he could before.

Dad's just not up for this challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

**YO NEW CHAPTER! ENJOY!**

My heart stops still as I watch the scene in the ring below me in absolute horror. My mouth opens to scream at my dad to watch, but it all happens to fast. The milliseconds before it, everything is serene and peaceful. My sharp ears catch the sweet song of the chirping birds. My senses work into overdrive. I can practically feel every fiber of excitement in the crowd as they scream.

The spear pierces him in the back.

My mother, younger brother, and younger sister both scream, but I collapse onto my knees, not a sound coming out of my mouth. My eyes lock with the killer's.

A smirk crosses his rugged and handsome features, and tears run down my face. He salutes me, still keeping his dark-eyed gaze on me, before blowing me a kiss. I clench my fists as rage settles at the bottom of my heart like a heart-wrenching, awakening cold. Rage fills me until I can pratically taste the metallic and bittersweet blood and satisfaction I will get from the killer as soon as I kill him.

And the satisfaction that I imagine is so powerful, I CRAVE and DESIRE when I will kill him. The force of these new emotions and lust for death strikes me like a hard slap in the face. I calm myself, slowing my fast breathing. I gaze down at my father, trembling. He is faced straight-down into the dirt, a very undignified position for death. Then again, my father always believed he would've died this way. In the arena, a blade in hand, a look of breathlessness and shock across his face.

He loved the thrill, the adrenalin that shot through his veins and made him feel young again when he fought in the arena. He loved how he could feel the stench and aura of death when he fought there, a centimeter away from a shining blade or a dreadful dagger. He LIVED for the life-threatening situations. That's why he loved his job so much.

Honestly, I thought he was insane.

Ironically, I guess I'm like him. I like dangerous and 'extreme' things. Like, when I was young, my youger sister Ella, had dropped her favorite doll in a fast and dangerous rushing creek. Sobbing, she had motivated me to dive into the river, narrowly missing a giant rock. In the end, I had saved her doll, but I was shivering so hard from the iciness of the river, I got hypothermia that night. Another time, I was thirteen, and I had decided to walk across a thin wooden slab teetering precariously between two buildings. I had laughed the whole walk, staring down at the alley below me and the pointing people. I mostly noticed the young couple with child my age with long dark hair and dark eyes. He gawked at me, his eyes shining with admiration and curiosity. I liked that look in his eyes. The fear and the curiosity and the reverance and the danger all rolled in one. From that day on, I preformed stunts at least every week, irritating and worrying my mother and the rest of the house maids  
more and more.

She always complained that I was becoming more and more like my father, with me shooting back that he was the one who made us rich.

I studied his bleeding body, bile rising in my mouth. And I threw up over the arena terrace.

Someone gently touches my shoulder. I wipe the goo off my mouth before turning. My mother looks at me with kind eyes. I look at her, and she gestures to a figure behind me. Disgust and anger whirl around in me like a hurricane about to explode. My mom smiles warmly at me, but fear and desperation fill her eyes. "Er. This is the National Gladiators' Association spokesman. As you know, the rulebook says you have to marry the one who killed your father. So, Max, meet your new husband, Nicholas Walker."

As she gestures at the tall young man, I study him up close. With the strong body build, the obviously lithe and panther-like grace and the youth, it's no wonder he beat my father. At point blank, all of these features I had seen him display in the arena are more prominent than ever. This guy can hypnotize. He can lie to no end and make you believe it's the truth. He's deceptive and a genius strategist, just like me, maybe even more so. And that's what scares me the most. This guy could manipulate me so well, even I might not catch his devious plans. My next action makes me want to curse myself. It definitely doesn't help my situation. I level my gaze, and snarl, "I'd rather die than marry this shit."

Nicholas's mouth quirks into a half-smile.

The announcer dips his head. "That can be arranged."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys! I'm back. Because of DemiGoddess, I realized how many things I need to clarify. **  
**DemiGoddess, thanks for the tips! They were really helpful. I'm all open to constructive criticism! Thanks for taking the time to write that really long review...:)**

**Okay, so lemme clarify...**

**Max lives in a future society under one dictator and a council that is basically the puppets of the dictator. He controls everything, and they listen. It makes sure that he has less work, but he still gets the things he want done. The gladiator arena is a tradition of the Romans that continues throughout time, and it still goes on. Yes, they have great technology bla-bla-bla. So...in the future. Oh, yeah, also, the rule...well I thought of it to make sure there would be Fax. So, right now, I'm saying the rule about making the daughter marry the killer was created just to humiliate the family of the gladiator even more. It's a symbol of submission and defeat by giving up the eldest daughter, the future 'heir' of the family. And, this society is more patriarchal than the real modern society here now. In the story, men in this society consider women to be a lesser species to men. And since men are so great and stuff, all males must participate once at the age of eighteen, and you must be 'qualified'. If you are qualifed, you are forced into the games. The rule makers of the gladiator games assume most women are weak and they just go along with marrying whichever nasty guy killed their dads. And, mostly, it's true. That's why Max is different. She's...revolutionary. (But Max has always been revolutionary:)) She's something different to the society she lives in. Furthermore...just read the story. A background story is a great idea, but I've planned on making that later. It will make sense later.**

**Now, back to the story! This is replacement of chapter three...basically chapter three.**

"I'm so sorry, Max," Mom says, standing in front of Ella and Ari. My mother is my birth mother, and Ella and Ari are both my real siblings. The bonds between us are unbreakable. I look away. "It's all right, Mom."

She sits down on the couch in our living room. Their living room. Soon, it won't be mine.

"Your dad never meant for something like this to happen. I know you two were never really close, but it's true." She says. I wince, thinking of the times when I was younger and he was drunk. Wealth was never good for anyone. My father...had never been a very great man. He had cheated on my mother, and I had kept it a secret from my mom. I didn't want to hurt her, and I didn't want our family to break apart. I hated my dad for that reason. Of course, I love my mom much more than I ever loved my dad. For cheating on her and just being the worst father, he had caused me to hate him.

I remembered when I used to care. I was a small child, and I had baked him a messed up cake for his birthday. Ari and Ella hadn't been around at that time.

_*Flashback*_

_"Daddy, guess what day it is!"_

_He turned, drunk as ever, stumbling around with my mother at his side, holding his arm to support him._

_"I don't have time for you people, I must go back to the arena!" He cried in a hoarse voice._

_"Please, Jeb, don't," Mom begged, holding onto him. He whirled on her, slapping her in the face. "Ithsss my job. I needa go. Leth go!"_

_My mom fell to the floor, whimpering. I was shocked, and I had dropped the cake I had made him. "But, Daddy, it's your birthday...all Dad's spend time with their family on their birthday..."_

_He left without a word, leaving my mother on the ground, crying._

After Ari and Ella were born, Dad's behavior improved, but I never forgave him. My siblings adored him, but I despised him. He was always distant, knowing how much I knew about who he truly was inside.

We live in the wealthier part of town with sprawling mansions, beautiful lawns, and rich people with pampered poodles. We had come from the middle class part of the capital, the city where the most famous arena for the gladiator fights are in. We had risen from the worst class to the very highest.

Because of my dad. It disappoints me in some ways how much we relied on dad killing others. Now that dad is dead, we have nothing.

"Don't worry about me, Mom. What about you? Where will you go?" I ask, concerned. I look at my siblings, who play around and giggle and fight. They can't survive by themselves with just Mom. Mom has always been frail and too kind, and that kind of person always gets chewed up and stepped on in our society and spit back out. She can't survive. She can't keep up with Ella and Ari. She was too dependent on Dad.

"I-I will live at your grandmother's until I can really support myself. I still have the money your dad left behind. I'm saving that," Mom said quietly.

I nod. "For now, do that. I'm planning on fighting my way out of marrying Nicholas so I can help support you guys. You need all the help you can get, Mom," I say. For a second, she seems like she's going to object. Then, she says, "Max, you don't have to. I just want you to be happy."

I raise an eyebrow, amused. "Mother, do you really think I can be happy with the guy who killed my father? Just seeing his face makes me want to throw up in disgust. I despise him. I hate him so much. I may not have liked my dad, but my blood is still his. The blood of one of my family has been spilled in the arena, and you're telling me to live with the one who has done this and be happy. How ridiculous is that, Mother?" I ask, arms crossed. She cringes. "Max...I'm so sorry."

Something in me snaps. "Mom, you've got to be strong for the kids. Stop being so weak, okay? You're not going to be able to survive for a week by yourself with that attitude. You need to be tough, Mom. There's a reason why I'm worried about what will happen if I leave you. Take care of them, okay?"

The door rings, and I grab my suitcases of clothes. "I love you, okay?" Mom nods, choking on her tears.

"Hey, Ella. Ari." I lean down and hug them. They cling to me. "You will visit, right?" Ari asks, his big eyes looking up at me with cherubic innocence. I melt inside and bite back a sob. "You betcha, buddy. I'll visit you every week."

"Every day?" Ella counters, smiling at me. I sigh. "Maybe."

The doorbell rings, and he appears. I glare at him, but he barely glances at me. "I love you, guys. I'll come soon."

All of us hug before I leave with him. He tries to help me with a suit case, but I slap his hand away. He sighs as we head to his car. I jam my stuff into the trunk of his fancy, expensive-looking black car. "Look, I get why you hate me. I'm really sorry, but it had to be done. Your dad's...ah, a corruption in the system. He's too brilliant."

"You were smarter. You killed him," I reply coolly, looking straight ahead. "I've had a lot more experience," he replies darkly. I shoot him an odd look.  
"Yeah? With what? Murdering?"

He takes a deep breath, his hands flexing on the car wheel. "I'm sorry. I can't explain it now. This is really important, though. It may be screwing up your life right now, but this is for the greater good for the future of society."

What the hell was he talking about? How would marrying him help society?

I merely nod, going along. I'm going to have to wait for Fang to slip up and tell me what he's up to.

I need a plan.

"Yeah? Well I'm definitely not on your side. What was with the kiss and the salute?" I ask. I pause. "Convince me to stay with you. Don't give me that other crap. I plan on winning in the arena, you know. And you're not really doing a good job of making sure I stay your wife."

His lips quirk into a smile. "Don't worry. I will." I glare at him, arms crossed as I look at the house. It's a huge mansion and beautiful, much bigger than my family's.

"Come on, then," he says, opening the door. I give him a look. "You really expect me to go in there with you?"

He sighs. "Servants! Bring her stuff inside. I'll take care of her."

The servants shuffle forward and grab my things, muttering, 'Yes, master'.

Nicholas grabs a fencing sword sitting on a bench, and he says, "We'll fence. Whoever gets five touches first wins. Normal rules. I assume you can fence, yes? Most girls are required to learn it...just for better balance. If I win, you come into the house with me and do what I say. If you win, I bring you back to your family and you can live with them. I'll file a divorce. You won't have to be my wife," he proposes. I'm shocked and filled with glee. He's underestimating me. I'm a lot better than most girls at fencing. It's worth a shot at trying to get back. I have to try.

"Yes. Where's your fencing gear?" I snarl, smirking. He tosses me fencing uniform and a blade while strapping on his. I quickly pull the clothing on me and strapping the helmet on. We go on the yard, facing each other. "Ready? On my mark," he says.

"On mine!" I cry. He sighs. "Fine. On yours."

"Ready...fence!"

Determined to defeat him, I watch his every step, analyzing each move. He relies more on his right leg. I can tell that he probably broke his left ankle, and it has never fully healed. He watches me, too. I can tell this might be a close one.

I just have to make sure I beat him before he can beat me.

Stepping nimbly, I decide to make the first move, adrenalin pumping through me. I feint at his right side before attacking his face with my blade in one clean lunge. He parries, hitting my blade back. I immediately move back into the basic position, waiting. "On guard!" All of my fencing lessons flood in, helping me remember everything.

Nicholas quickly steps around, whirling on his right foot and attacking me in a flash. I barely dodge, then take advantage of his vulnerable position. I hit his left side, but he has already sensed my move and parried.

I step back, slightly frustrated. He made such a careless move, yet I was unable to hit him! Nick smirks under the mask, and I try not to show my annoyance. One of my faults is letting my emotions take the best of me, and right now, I can not let that happen with my family in the balance. I know my mom won't be able to support the kids, and my grandmother will kick her out sooner or later. They have never had the best relationship, what with my grandmother and her snappy personality and sharp tongue. Huh. Now that I think about it, I probably got my personality from her.

"Are you not paying attention, Max? That's new for you," he taunts, attacking me firmly. I parry, combining a combination of moves that cause him to retreat back.

"What? How would you know?" I ask.

He smiles. "I saw the last time you fenced with your instructor Marian and the two other students. Who was it that you beat? Maya or Cornelia?"

I glare at him. "Both of them."

"Ah. Well. I only watched you and Maya fight. Maya is almost as good as you, but she doesn't have as good technique or your quickness and strength. You're also more balanced and experienced. Have you been in many fencing tournaments?"

"Yes. Fencing isn't just a game of physical strength. It's a measure of the mind. That's how I'm going to beat you, no matter how much stronger you are," I tell him. He dips his head as we continue to fence. "It is."

The next forty minutes go in silence, none of us willing to yield. Both of us have five touches. We're both sweaty and tired in the hot suit, but neither of us wants to show any weakness. We resist the tiredness and continue to fight. Our attacks become clumsy and not planned.

"Okay, I get it. Can we just take a break and fence tomorrow?" he asks, panting. Triumphant, I say, "Wimp."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Now, can we?"

I grin. "If you beat me in a game of chess, then I'll go inside. Okay?"

He sighs. "Max. Please, go inside."

I rub my eyes tiredly. Even I had enough sense to go inside. I turn to him. "Yeah. But this isn't over."

I pause on the way inside, then I turn to face him, directly in front of him. "Oh, yeah. I owe you something, Nick."

I knee him really hard in the balls and slap him across the face. He stumbles backwards, groaning. "That...was...unexpected..."

I grin, walking away. "What can I say? I'm Maximum Ride, of course I'm a surprise."

He continues to groan on the ground. "Max...call me Fang."

I nod, still walking. "Whatever, Fang."

**so...that was long**

**really long. **

**you didn't understand some parts? They'll be clarified later in the story. **

**Review and follow and favorite! bye!**


	4. Chapter 4

**hi guys!**

**I'M SO SORRY! SO, you know my other story? Maximum Ride: Being the New Girl? I will finish that story by the end of this month...then I will start to continue to update my other stories again!**

**But, I'm forcing myself to finish this Being the New Girl first! I probably will finish it earlier than the end of October, so yay! **

**I'm really sorry about this if you were expecting a new chapter, but please check out:**

**updated and revised version of Maximum Ride: Being the New Girl**

**:)**

**again, I'm so sorry**

**till next time, people!**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTERS SO SHORT...SORRY.**

I pace in my new room next to Nicholas's, or should I say _Fang. _

According to National Gladiator Association rules, the defeated basically allows the eldest daughter to get married off to the one who defeated him. That's Fang, and I'm the eldest. He had a choice out of all of the other daughters of the dads he murdered, but he chose _me._

That stupid piece of shit.

There are no female gladiators, but I'm willing to risk my life to get out of marrying Fang and find a way back to my family. I'll do everything it takes. For now, I have to stay in this hellhole.

I scream, throwing a vase at the wall. It's so frustrating. My mind is a mess, and I do not feel anything like I usually am when I'm around Fang. Fang tricks me, and his effect is crazy. He's like a snake. I'm calm and cool, and I can think on my feet. Fang ruins me. I just can't be out of control, because MAXIMUM RIDE DOESN'T GET OUT OF CONTROL.

But it scares me how he can do this to me.

One more minute like this, I'm going to explode.

There's a knock on my door and I smooth out my shirt and hair. I don't want him to have the satisfaction that he is destroying me. "Come in!" I call in my most neutral voice, sitting down on the giant bed.

I'm only seventeen for gods' sake! I can't survive on my own with my dad's murderer.

Fang steps in, holding a tray. I collapse on the bed, looking at him that's a cross between indifference and faked politeness. "Hey, Max. You haven't come down at all...so I thought you would be hungry," he says. I unleash a glare that basically reads, 'go die in a fucking hole, stupid'.

He smirks, amusement dancing in his eyes. He sets the tray in my lap. Sitting next to me on the bed, he says, "You know why I chose you as my wife?" He rolls the last word on his tongue, drawing it out. He knows I hate it, and it's something that makes me lose my control when he says it. I recoil in disgust, shuddering. He makes it sound like he owns me.

"Please enlighten me," I snap, voice dripping with sarcasm. He smiles. "Well. You aren't shallow. You're brilliant. You're very beautiful, and you seem to dislike me. A lot." He leans in close to my ear. My face flushes red, not from embarrassment but from absolute anger. "And I want to change that."

I leap up and face him, screaming, "Asshole!" I rush out of the room, hearing his booming laugh. I curse myself as I keep on running. I lost control. Again.

I sigh, falling onto a couch. "Hey! OMG, you must be Fang's wife! This is actually my main living room, but whatever! I'm Fang's adoptive sister, Monique, but please call me Nudge. You're so pretty! And you seem pretty smart, too! Do you like fashion? I want to be a model in, like, two years when I'm old enough! I love fashion. Are you a model? You're soooo pretty, you probably are! Which magazine, though? I'm pretty sure I go through all of the magazines every week. Anyway, should I-" I clap a hand over the talkative girl's mouth.

She looks around fifteen with super curly brown hair, mocha skin, and shining eyes. She looks cute, and I automatically know I can trust her. I just need to make sure Fang doesn't force her to do something to me.

"Hi. I'm Max. Yes, I'm supposed to be his wife, but I'm going to fight in the games to prevent it," I reply, smiling. Nudge frowns, crossing her arms. "Why would you fight as a gladiator? Do you hate Fang that much?" she asks. I'm shocked that she doesn't launch into a full-blown rant. Maybe she really wants to hear what I say. "At the moment, yes. No offense. I just really don't like him," I say. Nudge sits down next to me.

"Oh. Well, Fang is actually really great once you get to know him! When do you officially get registered to fight?" Nudge asks. "Two weeks," I answer. Nudge grins. "You have to get to know him! He's a great guy. Like, one time, I got glass in my toe and I was screaming and crying, and Fang was all calm and he gave me stitches and stuff. He's a really amazing guy. You just have to get to know him and everything. Please don't give up on him yet. If he chose you as his wife, he must really like you. Up until now, he swore he would never marry anyone. You must be something. A lot of girls have wanted to marry him, but he's declined all the offers. Please give him a try!" Nudge begs, throwing in the Bambi eyes.

I shield my eyes, trying to look away. Oh, there. Another thing that makes me lose my mind. "Nudge, he killed my dad. Why should I forgive him?" I accuse. Her eyes droop and she slumps into the couch, looking sad. "I'm sorry, Max. I didn't want to cause you pain. I just want to see Fang happy," she says in a defeated tone. I stare at her, slightly heartbroken. "Well, ask someone else to mend his obnoxiously cocky heart," I snap suddenly, annoyed that she was placing the burden of making him happy on me. She flinches slightly, grimacing. I tilt my head. Why did she flinch? Obviously there's much more to Nudge than meets the eye. She begs me, falling to her knees. "I want the best for Fang. I know he already loves you from the looks of it," she explains."Hm. Okay. Yes. Just maybe, though. MAYBE," I relent. Nudge squeals and dances around, her face glowing with cheerfulness. "Oh yes! Finally, I'll have a sister in law!"

I scowl at her slightly. "Um, I said MAYBE."

She flashes a grin, a devilish look dancing through her eyes. "Oh, Max. You'll be enchanted by him...just like the rest."

* * *

At first, I act hostile and tight-lipped, but soon his relaxed air makes me slowly start to talk more.

Fang says his only family is Nudge. His other foster siblings flew the nest, never talking to Fang or Nudge. His parents adopted her, but they died long ago. Their mother decided to commit suicide, and so did their father. Fang was angry and disappointed in his parents.

Fang tells me what his life was like as a kid. Sure, everyone wanted his life. Everyone wanted to live with his parents, the wealthy ones that gave him everything. But his parents were stuck in their own little romantic world like young teens, acting like he wasn't there. He was raised by maids and servants and butlers. Fang's parents just weren't the type that could handle kids. Fang was especially pissed when they adopted Nudge. "We're like toys. One week, we're interesting. The next, we're invisible," he explains to me, referring to all of the children they adopted and him, their real son.

"New toys that Mom wanted and Dad had the money to indulge her in. Mom squealed every time a new, adorable edition arrived. She was just...ya know, her mind was a mess. She couldn't take it. At times, she didn't even remember my name when I was a kid," he continues. I feel really sorry for him and his life. He didn't deserve parents that couldn't keep up with the kids they kept on adopting.

I tell him about my family. My life story is a bit better, and I mention my dad a lot to make him feel guilty. I'm immensely angry at him still, but what can I do? I get that the games were the whole 'kill or be killed'. I just wish he could've spared my dad some dignity when he was killed.

And Dad...we weren't always on the right foot. At times, we screamed at each other so much that we would lose our voices. He always told me what I did wrong, disapproved of me. I think...part of the reason I didn't want him dead was because he was my father and I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to be better than him. He's gone, so I couldn't prove to him that I'm the worthy daughter, that I am the Maximum he named me for.

I'm my own woman, and I wanted to show him. Somehow...I still want to show him.

I tell Fang this. I end up spilling my entire life to him. I can actually talk to Fang.

Sometimes people just need someone to listen, not someone to tell you how sorry they are.

Like now.

I feel comfortable here with Fang.

It's an odd, fluttery feeling in me.

One I've felt just once before...with Dylan.

* * *

I go to sleep as a changed person. For the first time in a year, I sleep soundly and without a single dream. I'm grateful. I nestle into my sheets, feeling like a burden has been lifted off my chest. Telling Fang was really important to me.

I don't want to admit it, but I see that Fang isn't the egoistical man I saw him to be.

Then I remember. I never finished my duel with Fang, did I? I curse my own stupidity.

**LOVE? HATE? **

**:)**

**YEAH...SO I CHANGED THIS CHAPTER A BIT...**

**LIKE I SAID, MAX REALLY DOESN'T CARE ABOUT HER FATHER NO MATTER WHAT. I DON'T REALLY WANT TO CHANGE THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE I THINK THIS WAS PRETTY SWEET.. :)  
**

**BYE GUYS! LUV YA**


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